


roads

by tewawoona



Category: Welcome to Night Vale
Genre: Asexual Character, Existentialism, Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-10-18
Updated: 2016-10-25
Packaged: 2018-08-23 05:32:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,241
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8315767
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tewawoona/pseuds/tewawoona
Summary: very loosely collected vignettes looking in on cecil and carlos as they take a roadtrip cross-country; each chapter can be read as a standalone piece if you like little bits of fluff ^^





	1. Chapter 1

Carlos pulls over on a plain, dusty stretch of highway. He takes his glasses off and attempts to clean them on the tail of his shirt. He observes the man sitting beside him in the passenger’s seat. 

The man is fuzzy in Carlos’ imperfect perception. He is sleeping, chest heaving in long, deep breaths. It it amazing that he breathes at all; more startling that he breathes in such a gentle, normal fashion. Carlos is grateful that the man breathes. 

The man has a beautiful face. This is not scientific. This is fact. Carlos could see this even without the help of his glasses. The man has a beautiful body. This, too, Carlos knows without seeing. Carlos likes to be sure of things. He is sure of everything about this man. His man. Carlos likes to think of the man next to him as his man. His man, the man who willfully belongs to him and chooses to care for him. Carlos considers his man. 

His man awakes, slowly, gradually, unsettled by the stillness of the car. He smiles at Carlos, softly, sleepily. He has bags under his eyes. He does not say anything. Carlos clambers over the center console and settles himself atop his man. Carlos’ legs straddle the man’s lap, and Carlos places his hands on the man’s chest. The man takes Carlos’ left hand to his mouth and kisses it reverently. 

“Thank you,” Carlos says, in a voice that is nearly a whisper. He is not thanking the man for kissing his hand. He is thanking the man for many other things. Most of all, he is thanking the man for coming with him on this journey. Carlos has been looking forward to this journey for a long time, and so has the man. They have looked forward, in unison, together, with each other. They do many things together. Not all things, but many things. 

The man blushes, faintly, and squeezes Carlos’ hand to let Carlos know that he is very welcome. 

Carlos rearranges himself slightly, making himself more comfortable. He rests his head on his man’s chest, listening to his heartbeat. It is even, and steady, and utterly unexpected. The man settles a hand in Carlos’ hair affectionately. 

“How far away from Night Vale are we?” The man asks after some moments of quiet. 

“Couple of hundred miles now, give or take, I think. Pretty far. Well, you know. Far enough that it seems like it’s really far. I guess it’s not that far when you take into consideration the general relativity of space. Space is pretty confusing.” Carlos responds. 

“That’s very far.” The man observes, solemnly, looking out the window. The desert was always the same. It has always been the same. It will not always be the same. 

“Cecil.” Carlos says, just to hear the word roll off his lips. His man’s name is Cecil. Carlos had never known a Cecil before knowing his man. There is only one Cecil, and there would only ever be one Cecil. Cecil is a glorious name. This, too, is fact. It is not scientific.

“Carlos,” the man says, just to hear the word in his mouth. He likes to consider Carlos his man, too. They like to consider that they belong to each other. It is a weird thing, abstractly, to bind one’s existence to another’s. It is less weird in practice. 

They rest for some time, languidly, peacefully. Carlos falls asleep for nearly an hour. Cecil thinks many things, but he mostly thinks how nice it will be to wash Carlos’ hair for him when they finally reach a hotel. 

Cecil has never been on a road trip before. He has been abroad some, but he has seen little of America. He is excited in a way that he has rarely been excited before. It is a quiet, unassuming way to be excited. It is pensive and shared. It is like a dream, in a way. Soft, and muted, and ethereal. 

Carlos has told Cecil that they will visit a lot of states, and see mountains, and canyons, and trees, and rivers, and the ocean. Carlos has told Cecil that they will camp, in some places, and that in other places, they will stay in hotels. Carlos has assured Cecil that Erika will take good care of the house plants, and that Kareem will pay the utmost attention to Khoshekh. Carlos had come up with the idea, all by himself. Of this, Cecil is immensely proud. Cecil is busy feeling proud when Carlos stirs and lifts his head. 

The two men smile at each other. They see humanity, and love, and belonging, and home in each other’s faces. The one man thinks it is very unscientific, but very wonderful. The other man does not think of it. He only feels it. 

Carlos climbs back into the driver’s seat and stretches. He finds his glasses on the dash, exactly where he had left them. It is a nice surprise.

Cecil stretches, too, more languidly and slowly. He looks out the window as Carlos drives. They chatter, sometimes, about things that are not important. They speak, sometimes, about things that are important. It is just getting dark when they come into a small town and check into a dingy motel.

They check into many dingy motels. They camp out under many stars. They are not at home, but they are home. When Carlos sleeps, it is always in the arms of his man. When Carlos bathes, his man sits on the unfamiliar tile and washes Carlos’ hair. When Carlos eats, his man is eating beside him or across from him. When Carlos stands at the edge of the Grand Canyon and looks down, his man grabs his hand and breathlessly exclaims, _“Oh!”_ When Carlos feels overwhelmed by the universe, his man gathers him up and cradles him and speaks to him in a resonating, gentle tone. 

It is not scientifically possible to love someone with every atom of your being. The cells in one’s body are uncaring. Yet, Carlos knows it is completely possible to love someone impossibly wholly.


	2. new orleans

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> a continued vignette with the roadtrip theme! the boys visit new orleans and carlos thinks back a bit ~

Carlos is paying for their room, which he thinks is exorbitantly priced for a singular night. The clerk is looking at him a bit funny, and he’s pretty sure it’s because he’s splattered with mud and probably smells repulsive. It’s really not his fault, but he’s not about to explain to a hotel receptionist that his boyfriend happens to be friends with that thing that lives out in the bayou and that they’d all had a very scientifically captivating lunch together. 

It’s some hour and a half later that finds Carlos leaning on the balcony railing of their room, listening to Cecil chatter on about his acquaintance. 

“And you know, I had no idea Lawrence moved out here, would you think of that? I mean, everyone thought he had dissipated or died or something. I mean, no one ever really bothered to check and the post office stopped caring about forwarding addresses in 1983, but still! I’m so glad for him, the climate really seems to do wonders for that mossy complexion, don’t you think?” 

Carlos hums in agreement, half-shutting his eyes in the setting sun. He doesn’t need to look to see that Cecil is still practically jumping up and down with excitement beside him. 

Carlos thinks that this is his favorite part of the road-trip, the part that is being tired and lazy and safe at the end of a day’s adventure. The part that is listening to Cecil and quietly observing his near-boundless energy through the perception of calm and content. Carlos considers the street below them, far below them. There are a few people; it is not a very busy part of the city. There are flower-pots at shop doors. There is a dirty road made glittering in the late sunshine. At some point, Cecil pauses in his narrative. 

Carlos is considering, specifically, a window-box of ruddy pansies, when a chin settles on his shoulder and long slim fingers thread through this own. A comforting, familiar weight and warmth settles around him as Cecil leans on him leaning on the railing. Cecil has showered, but there is still something vaguely damp and earthy and unfamiliar about his scent.

Carlos takes the time to feel overwhelmed. It was something very nice, when he had first fell in love with Cecil. It had been understandable enough. Cecil had found him attractive, and had been diligent and emotionally passionate. Carlos had thought it would be short-lived. Things usually were for him. Carlos thinks back to a very particular date. 

It had been a Friday evening. It was the first date they had chosen to stay in with each other. They had been on Cecil’s couch, limbs entangled and giggling. Carlos found Cecil on top of him, somehow, most of his weight bearing down on Carlos directly. Carlos had stopped giggling, then, and Cecil had pried himself away, gently, wondering if he’d done something wrong. 

They had sat together, in painful quiet, some long moments, before it was Carlos who had spoken. 

“I, uh. I’m really sorry, Cecil. I... I, uh. I’m not... Not like that. I don’t - I mean you probably thought. Well, with how I was leading you on and that. I can’t, it’s just that I can’t make love to you. I love you, please, ah. I don’t mean it like that. I just. It’s not - ” 

Cecil had reached out and taken Carlos’ hand at this point, squeezing gently. Carlos took two deep breaths and continued. 

“It’s just... Something... I don’t like. Or have. Or whatever. I mean that I’m asexual. I... Cecil, I, like I completely get it if that’s something you don’t want to live with and I know it’s being really unfair to you -” 

Cecil let go of Carlos’ hand. He held out his arms to Carlos, now, a pained look on his face. He did know that Carlos liked to be cuddled. 

Carlos obeyed, shuffling over to Cecil and feeling Cecil rub little circles onto his shoulder with the pad of his thumb. He felt like crying, a lot, and for too many different things. But then Cecil started talking. 

“Carlos, I... I never meant to make you uncomfortable. I really didn’t, and I’m really sorry if I frightened you. I love you, too. So much. Do you understand, Carlos? Love, like that?” 

“Not... Not really, I guess. Maybe?” 

“It means that you, you, Carlos, the very essence of your person, that is the thing that I want. Not a part of Carlos’ body. Not your hands, or your fingernails, or your liver, or your throat. You. Not the things that so happen to belong to you, even if they are incredibly beautiful things. I want... Whatever you want to give me. It would be silly for me to ask for something that you don’t have. I wouldn’t want that thing, anyways, because it isn’t a part of you.”

And Carlos did understand, then, and things were okay. They were very okay. 

Now, in this moment, Carlos still thinks that Cecil is a bit miraculous. He can feel Cecil, there, feel his breaths. He can feel Cecil shift his weight to his other foot. He can feel Cecil’s breath tickling his neck. And none of these things make Carlos feel inadequate. None of these things make him feel guilty for not being able to do that one thing. Love-making, for them, was something different. It was going to sleep all wrapped up close. It was cooking dinner together. It was many things. And right now, it was just a presence. It was a togetherness. And that, after all, is one of the most important facets of love. Togetherness.


	3. boston

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> this chapter sees a cursed talisman and some humor for the boys ~  
> let me know if there is a specific place you'd like me to write about!  
> also edits made to first chapter to fix conflicting verb tenses ^^

Carlos has never considered himself to be an impatient man. But then, perhaps no one had ever really tested his patience all that much. Cecil might be effervescent and overwhelming, but it is not in an unpleasant way. It has never bothered him, not really, and it does not bother him now as Cecil drags him by the hand in and out of quaint shops and boutiques. 

Cecil had always been fond of shopping, but there weren't very many opportunities for such a hobby in Night Vale. Stores generally sold only the most practical of items, or only the most bewildering of things that were usually more dangerous than they seemed to be. Carlos soon learned that this explained many of Cecil's clothing choices; when he was out and about in places that were not Night Vale, he purchased things that spoke to an impressive sense of fashion. 

Carlos had lost count of how many shops they'd visited about an hour ago and he wasn't entirely sure how many of Cecil's parcels he was carrying, but he was pretty sure he hadn't lost any along the way. At any rate, nothing too big had been left behind. Carlos looked up at as Cecil tugged on his hand energetically. 

"Ooh! Carlos, look, an antique shop!" 

"Oh, Cece, they're not like the antiques in Night Vale. They're not alive or anything." 

Cecil seemed vaguely confused at this, but pulled his boyfriend into the shop anyways. He looked around, eyes taking in the dusty shelves and cabinets with a glittering fascination. Even as tired as he was, Carlos took a moment to appreciate the way Cecil's face lit up. They wandered around together for a few minutes before Cecil picked up a small, round item, intensely interested in it. 

"What's this?" He asked Carlos, handing the item over. 

The object was round in shape, but not spherical; it was almost flat. If Carlos had to guess, he would say it was carved out of jade or some similar stone. It was polished and smooth, except for the writing on the top. Carlos didn't recognize the language or the alphabet, and he was surprised that Cecil didn't either. 

"I don't know. It might be one of those inspirational stones, you know? But I'm not sure what it says." Carlos gave it back to Cecil. Cecil continued to study it, thoughtfully, as if it were the only thing he could think about. He let it rest in the palm of one hand, and made a motion over it with the other hand, mumbling something softly under his breath. He stared, blankly, at the item for a few seconds. A few seconds stretched into almost half a minute, and Carlos cleared his throat nervously. Cecil's eyes snapped away from his hand and up to Carlos' face. He jumped back, apparently startled. 

"You alright, Cecil?" 

"Who are you?" 

"What?" 

"I asked your name, sir, I believe." 

"Cecil, you're really not funny." 

"I'm not trying to be. I don't know you." 

Carlos paused. Cecil wasn't lying or teasing him. Cecil wasn't this good of a liar and this wasn't his brand of humor. Whatever he'd done to the stone - talisman, rather, most likely - had done something to him. Carlos swallowed hard, trying not to panic. Panicking is not something a scientist does. 

"Where are you, Cecil?" 

"I was at school a moment ago. Now I'm clearly not." 

"What grade are you in?" 

"Tenth." 

"You're in Scouts, right? Do you have your badge in Curse Removal yet? Look at that thing in your hand, Cece."

Cecil looked at it, briefly, and back to Carlos. 

"Is it cursed?" 

"How would I be able to tell if it was?" 

"Most people would just try it and see. Small objects only have a few different powers, and they only last a twenty-four hour hold. Usually you can only use them a few times. Everyone knows that." 

"Is messing with someone's consciousness a possible curse?" 

"Well yeah, duh. Disorient someone, make them think they're at a different place in their timeline, sure. That's pretty obvious." 

Carlos groaned, but at least he was relieved. If Cecil was right, he would have to deal with a mentally fifteen-years-old boyfriend for the rest of the day and then things would be fine. 

"Right. Well, there you go then. You picked that thing up and, uh, tried it out, and now you think you're in tenth grade, but you're actually quite a lot older than that." 

Cecil placed it down on a shelf quickly. He regarded Carlos carefully, and Carlos regarded him just as closely. Carlos felt nervous and a little terrified, like it was the first time he'd met Cecil all over again. It was Cecil who broke the silence. 

"You, uh. You didn't tell me who you were." 

"I'm your boyfriend. Carlos. You, uh. You met me a few years ago. And we started dating a year after we met. And then we moved in together." Carlos left out the time he'd spent in the desert otherworld. It didn't seem important. He felt small and insignificant under Cecil's unfamiliar stare. 

"Am I a good boyfriend?"

Carlos smiled. Younger Cecil was still Cecil. Curious, and blunt, and intense. 

"Of course you are. The very best."

"Where are we?" 

"We're in Boston. In Massachusetts -"

Cecil's face fell, almost horrified. 

"We moved away from Night Vale? Why?"

"No, no, honey. We're on vacation. We live in Night Vale, we didn't leave. I don't think we could if we wanted to." 

Cecil sighed. Carlos couldn't tell if it was relief or possibly chagrin at being unable to leave Night Vale. Were they really unable to leave? Would they, if they could? These were not questions for today. Today was for keeping an eye on Cecil and getting to tomorrow without any - other - major disasters. 

"I, uh. I think I'd like to rest. If I could. If that's okay." Cecil said in a small voice. 

"Sure. Of course. Let's get back to our hotel, hmm? It'll be a little walk, though. Is that okay?" Carlos held a hand out to Cecil. Cecil took it, tentatively, delicately, unsure of himself. 

"That's alright." 

\-----

It took them the better part of an hour to reach their hotel, and Cecil had been complaining straight through for the past ten minutes. Carlos was beginning to consider himself an impatient man. 

"Here we are. And would you look at that, you didn't die or pass out or anything." Carlos observed dryly, dropping Cecil's parcels on the floor next to the bed and toeing off his shoes. 

"Sure, I'm alive, but just barely." Cecil retorted, flopping onto the bed. Carlos sat on the edge of the bed beside him, looking pensively at him. 

"Do you want to tell me about your life, at all? You, uh. You don't like to talk about your childhood too much, now." 

"I mean, I guess there's not much to tell. I go to school. I'm in Scouts. My brother's kind of a jerk. I have this neat internship at NVCR, it's literally so amazing. I mean, I don't do too much there, but it's cool. Radio is just so... neat, you know?" 

"Yeah, I know. Of course I know. My boyfriend is Night Vale's favorite community radio host. I should know." 

Cecil grinned. "That's pretty neat." 

Carlos hummed in agreement, laying down beside Cecil. Cecil reached out, delicately running his fingers through Carlos' hair. He studied Carlos' face, as if seeking something there. 

"I always knew I'd end up with a really hot trophy boyfriend." 

"Oh my god, Cecil." 

Carlos may, indeed, be an impatient man.

**Author's Note:**

> I may continue this, providing little snippets of places Cec and Carlos visit on their roadtrip? let me know if that would be cute ^^


End file.
